Chapter 242 - Forgiveness

Eliana sat perched on the edge of the bed, her swollen feet resting in Rafael's lap like precious cargo. The position felt far more intimate than she was prepared for, and the emotions swirling inside her were anything but cooperative. The bedroom was dim, lit only by the bedside lamp, its golden glow painting lazy shadows across the ornate wallpaper of the London townhouse. The air was warm and familiar, still holding traces of the soup he'd made earlier—ginger, herbs, comfort—woven together with the faint perfume of the roses on the nightstand. It smelled like care. That alone unsettled her.